“It is no dream, then—no vision; it is she—it is Aurore!”
Up to this moment I was still but half conscious. The thought had passed from my lips; but, perhaps, only the last phrase was uttered loud enough to be heard. An ejaculation that followed fully awoke me, and I now saw two female forms close by the side of my couch. They stood regarding each other with looks of surprise. One was Eugénie; beyond doubt the other was Aurore!
“Your name!” said the astonished mistress.
“My name!” repeated the equally astonished slave.
“But how?—he knows your name—how?”
“I cannot tell, ma’amselle.”
“Have you been here before?”
“No; not till this moment.”
“’Tis very strange!” said the young lady, turning towards me with an inquiring glance.
I was now awake, and in full possession of my senses—enough to perceive that I had been talking too loud. My knowledge of the quadroon’s name would require an explanation, and for the life of me I knew not what to say. To tell what I had been thinking—to account for the expressions I had uttered—would have placed me in a very absurd position; and yet to maintain silence might leave Ma’amselle Besançon busy with some strange thoughts. Something must be said—a little deceit was absolutely necessary.